


Nighttime Rendezvous

by shotgunsinlace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Dancing, Dry Humping, First Time, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 14:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsinlace/pseuds/shotgunsinlace
Summary: Prompto’s favorite band hits Insomnia just two days before they leave for Altissia, so obviously he has to drag Noctis along to witness what he claims will be the best concert ever. Claustrophobic nightclub and potential paparazzi aside, at least the music is pretty good, especially when Prompto adamantly grinds against him on the dancefloor.Written for the FFXV NSFW Week over on tumblr. Day 2's prompt isBodies.





	Nighttime Rendezvous

Dancing is a lot like sparring.

Both are exhausting, require significant amounts of effort, muscle memory, finesse, and flexibility. All of which Noctis is more than capable of delivering if it weren’t all so stressful.

Altissia this, Altissia that. Altissia, Altissia, Altissia.

Not even that constant subtle excitement is enough to squash the anxiety making him antsy. He finds every possible way to keep himself busy; completing as many video games as possible, moving the stuff from his apartment back to the Citadel, going over protocols Ignis insists he memorize but they both know full well will not fly in the moment of truth.

So on, so forth.

The clock is ticking.

Two days before they leave, Prompto brings it up.

It’s a comment meant to be casual, but there’s no such thing when it comes to Prompto and his interests. Noctis presses until he blurts it out, and when he does, Noctis caves with very little opposition.

During the extent of their friendship not once has Prompto asked for anything. He isn’t the type to request, or even make any sort of decision on something as simple as where they should go to grab a quick bite on a Friday night. He goes where Noctis goes, does as he does, the end.

When Prompto asked if he would accompany him to a nightclub, Noctis didn’t have the heart to say no.

The place isn’t exactly exclusive, but it also isn’t easy to get into on a short notice. Prompto surprises him by showing two tickets at the door, and Noctis wonders exactly how long he had been saving for. Suddenly, all those nights Prompto opted to eat in make sense.

Neither are into the clubbing scene. Uncomfortable around big crowds and drinking just not their thing, there’s a multitude of activities they would much rather partake in. But Prompto’s reason for a night out in the city becomes apparent the moment Noctis recognizes the song blaring through the speakers.

“You should’ve said so,” Noctis tries shouting over the music.

Prompto gives him a thumbs up, then points at the stage where dozens of people are swarming.

The heavy bass pounds in the cavity of his chest, making his heart beat in his ears. The electronic undercurrent of the rhythm has him bopping his head, turning the corners of his mouth upwards into an unbidden smile as Prompto grabs his wrist and tugs him into the sea of people.

Noctis has heard this song on the radio countless times. Despite being overplayed, Prompto insisted they all shut up and listen because, finally, his favorite band was getting the recognition they deserved throughout Insomnia.

The genre isn’t one Noctis would listen to of his own volition, but he likes the song enough to not bitch about it whenever Prompto plays it during training.

However, he does wish they would’ve held the concert at an actual venue rather than a claustrophobic nightclub.

The sheer amount of people, accompanied by the acoustics amplifying the sound, and the flashing neon laser lights have Noctis slightly off balance.

Prompto holds onto him tight. He mouths to Noctis if he’s alright, and all Noctis can do is nod his head. He doesn’t want to responsible for a frown on Prompto’s currently ecstatic face.

He hangs back, just out of the way of the majority of the crowd, and watches.

During their Crownsguard training, Noctis has seen Prompto go from clutzy teenager to adequate fighter. From tripping over his feet to being able to maneuver himself around three other people with pinpoint accuracy, Prompto has gone above and beyond.

Maybe it’s due to the gangly nature of his body. Or natural flexibility. Noctis isn’t sure, but seeing him here and now, he wonders if Prompto dances to a beat all his own when he has a pistol in hand.

Hands above his head, Prompto bobs to the song without a care in the world. There’s a permanent grin on his face as he sways from side to side, the music carrying him like a torrent of water. He moves like liquid, controlled but free, enraptured by a joy that can only come from within.

All Noctis can do is stare.

If only he could be as carefree as him. To not have the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders, to not have to deal with whatever will comes in the following days once they make their leave.

His father had asked if he was ready to grow up, to leave home behind, and something about the question troubles his sleep.

Noctis just wants to have even a little bit of fun. Even if this isn’t his scene, _he just wants to have fun_.

A hand on his shoulder startles him and Prompto is frowning. He leans over to speak directly into Noctis’ ear. “We can go somewhere else.”

Noctis shakes his head. Instead, he grabs Prompto’s bicep and drags him further into the crowd.

Music pounding in his head, Noctis stands in front of his best friend and fidgets. Dancing people keep bumping into him, but Prompto is there to smile and tell him it’s okay with nothing but his eyes.

There’s only a moment’s hesitation before Prompto is wrapping an arm around Noctis’ waist and pulling him flush against him. His smirk is sheepish, more an apology than anything, but Noctis fights the sudden wave of embarrassment by moving from side to side.

It takes a moment for Prompto to realize what it is he’s doing, but once he gets it, his laugh almost breaks through the music.

Pulling him a little closer, Prompto guides him to move to the beat.

Once Noctis accepts that no one is watching them, everyone wrapped up in their own world to care about the two guys flailing among them, his shoulders sag with tentative relief.

Dancing is a lot like sparring.

A sequence performed by two people. But, unlike the ballroom dancing he’s practiced for Altissia, this here grants him the same freedom and adrenaline high he gets from swinging a weapon with raw power.

_Freedom._

He isn’t aware he’s closed his eyes, swaying and twisting and singing along to words forever emblazoned in his head. A laugh bubbles out of him as he lifts his hands above his head, moving to the contagious rhythm that fuels him.

The arm around him shifts, reminding him that the warmth pressed against his front belongs to none other than Prompto, who shifts from guiding to following within the space of a moment.

Noctis opens his eyes only to find him staring.

The song carries on around them, seemingly endless as the performer’s low-droning of a voice coos lyrics that fall heavy into Noctis’ gut. He isn’t paying attention to the words, nor anything other than the sharply dressed Prompto currently tipping forward without any inhibitions.

Noctis has never kissed another guy before. Hell, he’s never kissed anyone outside platonic pecks on the cheek by the few who know him best. Sure, he’s fantasized about it before, but what twenty-year-old who’s never been kissed wouldn’t?

Despite the warning bells going off in his head, Noctis hooks a hand on the back of Prompto’s neck to keep their lips pressed together for just a while longer.

It’s a dangerous display out in the open with the potential of paparazzi, or worse, his father’s Glaives keeping an out on what he’s doing. The potential of being caught kissing anyone other than his betrothed will spark a scandal beyond what they can control—but despite Noctis’ reluctant adherence to the rules, he can’t stop himself from kissing Prompto.

His lips are soft and they feel so nice brushing against his own, just as nice as Prompto feels pressed against him.

Prompto pulls away as Noctis struggles to bring him close again, but Prompto grins as he turns in his arms. Now pressed back to front, Noctis’ breath catches when Prompto grinds onto him.

Noctis bites his bottom lip, hands falling to Prompto’s hips and clinging to them as they continue to move to the rhythm. Sweat beads thick under the collar of Noctis’ new jacket, his clothing sticking as his pants grow uncomfortably tight. He wonders if Prompto can feel him, and he really hopes he does.

This is undoubtedly worse than kissing in public, but Noctis can’t help himself.

Everyone’s dancing, he tries to reason. No one will notice. Nobody will care.

Noctis tries to pull Prompto’s hips closer, tries to rub himself against the subtle curve of his tight pants, but Prompto has a better grasp of decorum than he does, apparently, because one moment he’s ready to hump him and the next he’s being pulled across the dance floor.

Prompto casts a quick look around them until he finds what it is he’s looking for.

It takes Noctis far too long to realize where they’re going.

The bathroom door has barely closed behind him before Noctis is spinning them around, pinning Prompto against it and reclaiming his mouth in a wild kiss that has zero amounts of experience behind it.

It’s nothing but a mess of spit as they lick each other’s tongues, bite each other’s lips, press mouth to mouth with desperate intent.

Noctis has half a mind to cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Once he’s certain that the stalls are empty, he debates on what to do next.

Prompto watches him as he grabs a forgotten custodian’s broom and jams it through the door handle. It won’t keep the door entirely closed, but it will buy them enough time to stop and rearrange themselves were anyone to try and walk in.

“We can just go back to the car,” Prompto says, his cheeks rosy underneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He has his hands behind his back, almost shy, and Noctis is shocked by the fact that he’s never considered doing this before.

He’s always joked about Prompto being too cute for a guy, but they all do. Gladio and Ignis poke different levels of fun at him for it, always in good faith. But never once has he thought about kissing him, and now that he’s done so, he never wants to not kiss him.

“Fuck,” Noctis says, analyzing how truly fucked everything is going to be if he goes through with this.

But, if not now, then when?

He doesn’t want to live the rest of his life knowing he turned this down. He doesn’t want to look back, ten years from now, and wonder what it would have been like.

“ _Fuck._ ”

“Nothing has to happen, dude,” Prompto tries, holding up his hands in surrender. “Seriously. I swear I didn’t mean for any of this happen, I just got carried away. You know how I am. One moment I’m having fun and the next I’m having too much fun and fuck everything up because apparently I can’t control myself and just—”

Noctis shuts him up with a kiss.

“We’re gonna fuck,” Noctis boldly proclaims.

“Have you ever fucked anyone before?”

“Uh, no. Have you?”

“Nope.”

They stand there, too embarrassed to look each other in the eye before Prompto breaks out into a bout of giggles.

Noctis shakes his head, smiling at how big a pair of idiots they are.

Closing the distance between them again, Noctis quickly and effortlessly lifts Prompto to sit on the edge of sinks. His legs wrap around his waist, fingers now carding through his hair.

The music still bleeds in like a dull thrum, making Noctis’ heartbeat to a completely different tune.

“You really sure you want it to be me?” Prompto says, leaning down to press a kiss to Noctis’ cheek.

“You say that like this wasn’t your intention from the start.”

Prompto gasps. “It wasn’t! I just… I really wanted to hang out with you before things changed.”

“And what makes you think they will?”

“You’re getting married soon,” Prompto says, but there’s a dreamy sort of quality to his voice. His smile is soft as he bumps their foreheads together. There’s more that is meant to be said, but Prompto refrains.

Preferring actions over words, Noctis catches his mouth in a softer kiss, one far more hesitant than the one they shared in their hurry to get away from prying eyes. He rests his fingers against Prompto’s cheek, drags them down his neck until they catch against the collar of his shirt.

“I want it to be you,” Noctis says, hooking his fingers behind Prompto’s knees and pulling forward just enough to slip between his legs. “Even if no one but you and me ever knows.”

Prompto rocks his hips forward and Noctis meets him halfway.

Time runs away from them as they kiss and grind against each other, clothed erections rubbing obscenely. Prompto moans into Noctis’ mouth, grabbing his ass and tugging him flush against him, desperate for more sweet friction.

A part of Noctis wants to get naked, but a far more coherent part of him refuses to do so in a nightclub’s bathroom. Who knows how many people have done this same exact thing; it can’t be sanitary. And in the event that someone tries coming in, well.

The thought is interrupted when Prompto undoes the button on his jeans.

“Hey, what—?”

“Just…” Prompto’s cheeks are a bright pink as he slips a hand down Noctis’ pants, fingers tickling the coarse hairs there before coming into contact with the base of Noctis’ cock.

“Shit, Prompto.”

Prompto gestures his head downwards, towards his own lap, in order to tip Noctis off.

“We can jerk each other off,” he suggests, already ahead of the game as he carefully pulls Noctis free. “Better than cumming in our boxers.”

“I was perfectly okay with that.”

“Wouldn’t make for a very dignified walk out of here.”

“Who the hell cares?” Noctis says, fumbling with Prompto’s too-tight pants. He hums when he emerges victorious, tentatively wrapping his hand around Prompto’s cock and giving it an experimental stroke.

“J-Just, uh, pretend you’re touching yourself.”

“Quit talking like you’re the hand-job expert.”

“Someone’s gotta take initiative!”

They both look down at each other, at uncertain hands that awkwardly stroke and squeeze until they find a pace that has both of them squirming.

Prompto licks his palm, quick and efficient, before wrapping it around Noctis’ cock again. Noctis follows suit, finding the glide easier now that it’s slicker.

“Imagine how good it’d be with lube,” Prompto says, nearly drowned out by the music.

It’s Noctis’ turn to go pink, and he can feel the heat creeping all the way up to his ears. He refrains from meeting his own gaze in the mirror behind Prompto. “We can try next time.”

“Next time?” There’s hope in Prompto’s tone voice before he looks back down again, squeezing the tip Noctis’ cock hard enough to rip a moan out of him. “I want to do more than just this. Next time.”

It’s hard to swallow when Prompto works his cock with the skill of someone who’s been doing this for a very long time. Either that, or it just feels that good because this is the first time anyone other than himself has touched him there. Regardless, Noctis bucks into Prompto’s grip, unable to keep the sounds escaping him in check.

“Like what?”

“What?”

“What more do you want to do?” He’s no stranger to masturbation, but this is different. He’s thought about crazy things while horny, things he feels ashamed to think about once he’s finished, and right now Noctis fears he’ll either say or do something extremely stupid.

Like, talk about it, for example.

Prompto’s hand slows on him as he thinks. “I don’t know, actually.”

“Think of something.”

“Um.”

“I’d fuck you on the throne,” Noctis says, giving him no time to reply. His mind blurs when pleasure and lust override every other function in him, his hand slipping lower to fondle Prompto’s balls. “You’d be so loud I’d have to cover your mouth to keep anyone from catching us.”

“Noct…”

“In the backseat of the Regalia,” he continues, hiding his face in the crook of Prompto’s neck. “At noon. Where anyone walking by can see us.”

“Oh, gods, Noct.”

“Tell me anything, Prompto,” Noctis says, words a low rumble against Prompto’s sweat-slicked skin as he pushes forward, their cocks brushing together and drawing out loud, shaky moans from the two of them.

The sensation is rough, but fuck if it isn’t the best fucking thing Noctis has ever felt.

He pulls Prompto’s hand away and cants his hips forward, letting nothing but their cocks rub together for one hot moment.

They both forget to speak as they move in tandem, unbearable heat climbing higher and higher the faster they move against each other. It gets better when Noctis mimics Prompto’s earlier action of licking his palm to slick them both up. He eventually closes his hand, creating a tight tunnel for the two of them to fuck together.

Noctis curls into Prompto, erratic breathing mingling with the merciless bass just outside of the door. He sucks a bruise into the column of his neck as Prompto wraps his legs around him, urging him to go faster and squeeze a little harder.

His orgasm begins to build quickly, to no one’s surprise, but it’s Prompto’s hushed confession whispered against his ear that pushes him over the edge.

“I want to fuck you on your wedding night.”

Noctis hisses through gritted teeth when he cums, hips moving erratically as he stains the front of Prompto’s shirt. He moans, low and drawn out, until he’s left boneless and panting against Prompto’s shoulder.

He looks up in time to catch Prompto staring at him, eyebrows pinched in concentration as he pumps his cock with quick and rough strokes. His eyes are hooded, lips slightly parted, freckles standing out against the dark dusting of pink over his cheeks.

For the first time, Noctis considers calling Prompto sexy rather than cute. And the thought utterly undoes him.

“Dammit, Prompto. I’d let you.”

It’s enough.

Prompto spasms underneath him, cumming with a whine that has Noctis licking his lips with want.

He’s gorgeous.

And Noctis doesn’t know what to do with that accidental revelation.

“We don’t have to talk about this ever if you don’t want to,” Prompto says weakly, still shivering from the force of his climax, but Noctis kisses his cheek, chin, the tip of his nose, and then his lips.

“We’ll figure this out as we go,” Noctis amends, smiling at the confused yet relieved look on Prompto’s face. “I remember reading somewhere that it’s real healthy to talk about your sexual fantasies.”

“Oh gods.” Prompto giggles regardless. “You talk more when you’re horny.”

Noctis grimaces. “That’s awful.”

“I like it. A lot. Keeps my head from running away from me.”

“And you’re a lot more honest about yourself when you’re horny.”

Prompto shakes his head. He leans forward, softly caressing his thumbs across Noctis’ cheekbones. “Nah. I think I’m just more honest with you.”

Noctis ducks his head, suddenly feeling unworthy. “Dude.”

“Well, it’s true.”

Bumping noses, their little bubble of privacy is rudely popped by a ferocious banging on the door, forcing them to stumble apart and frantically redress.

Prompto laughs all the way through it, and Noctis embraces it if only for a little while, the fullness in his chest. When he said he wanted to have fun and be free, he didn’t exactly mean falling a little bit in love with his best friend.


End file.
